Glass

Mason

I glimmer in the sun, my reflection

beams into the eyes that glaze 

upon me. When I'm broken, my

shards can cut.


Deadly.

 

Smithereens of dust blowing

in the wind can catch and leave

a nasty mark. Scars can be left.

My blades can damage and pierce

and wound and break.

 

Wounded.

 

Like knife through butter.

Like the words you stutter.

I flow my edges like water

in the streams and rivers.

 

Glass.

 

  • Author: Eli (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 9th, 2019 20:00
  • Comment from author about the poem: Glass can leave a nasty mark. So can others...
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 53
  • Users favorite of this poem: Mason, JaydeVictoria
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Comments +

Comments1

  • JaydeVictoria

    What an amazing write...the metaphor is spot on.
    Faved!

    • Mason

      Thankyou 🙂



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